Amelia, Ch 304- Hannah
"This is the Mark Seven," I spoke loudly to the fresh group of troops before me. Although none of them were fresh by any normal standard. In fact they were the top hundred men and women that the PRT, police, and fire departments in Austin had to offer. These were already consumate professionals, and eager to prove themselves in an even bigger stage.
"You've certainly heard the rumors, seen video of them in action," I stated. If they were the type that wasn't paying attention to something that basic, they wouldn't be here. "Over the course of the month, you will be proficient in the use of this equipment. Merely proficient. The Advanced Armor Division has been training with these devices constantly for six months, and we are still learning to harness their full potential."
Three of the suits walked up behind me, piloted by three of Calvert's top field commanders. Then again, at this point every one of the fifty men and women on this team would be a field commander in any other circumstance. They often were, being sent out in groups of ten or so to lead operations across the country. The best of the best, and everyone knew it.
"First, you will be trained in the basic M7E. The 'E' stands for Emergency. It's the version that does not come equipped with advanced weapons," I informed them. "But don't let that fool you. These machines are fully capable of ripping a human being in half if you use them without the inhibitors. Even with inhibitors, they are stronger than any non parahuman on the planet. M7Es come with advanced medical, diagnostic, tracking and scanning technologies that could not be installed in the M7M and M7P. They are the one unit everyone here will see used in the field, and by the end of this training, everyone here will know exactly why the PRT is trained to nullify Thinker class capes first in any engagement, and why you protect your team's M7E. Is that understood?"
A few of the go getters in the group shouted. "Yes, Ma'am!"
I smiled behind my scarf.
They know this song and dance. "The M7P, for Police," I gestured at the slightly larger model. "It is, functionally, the shock troop class. Equipped with some sensors, it can function as a Thinker in many situations. It is the fastest of the suits, capable of speeds of up to a hundred miles an hour. More durable than the Emergency units, and equipped with interchangeable electromagnetic or sonic blaster technology for stunning opponents and disabling electronics. In addition to being able to use standard police and PRT equipment, like vehicles, firearms and containment foam. If necessary, the PRT Director is capable of authorizing removal of inhibitors and activating lethal settings to the on board weaponry. Don't expect it to happen often."
That got their attention, at least for the cops and PRT troopers. 'Thinker' may be the most valuable job, but it wasn't exactly the most glamorous.
"And last, the M7M, Military," I gestured to the largest unit. "These have been referred to as the one man battle tank, and that's an excellent way to look at it. Slowest, toughest, and most destructive. It is capable of winning a battle against small armies, but with only a minimal advanced sensor suite. In the unlikely event that M7Ps aren't effective, the M7M might be called in. These are the weapons that retook Ellisburg. If you're lucky, you will never see them in use."
Although I wish we had these suits a year ago. The only parahumans in Brockton Bay that would have stood a chance against them were Purity and Lung, maybe Fenja and Menja. And even those would have been forced to retreat against more than one of them. I had to imagine even Lung's regeneration would not respond well to suddenly being reduced to the temperature of liquid oxygen. And Purity wouldn't do well against the long range targeting tech. Hiding in the glare of the sun or in clouds didn't mean much against something that didn't need to see you to snipe you.
My pager beeped. "My apologies," I said after glancing at the message. "Commander James, take over here, the Director wishes to see me. Operate on the assumption I won't be back for a while."
"Yes, Ma'am," the M7E suit responded. The three of them had seen this done several times before, they didn't need my help. I left in a brisk walk, bordering on a march. One of the habits I'd picked up working at this job.
....
"Director Calvert," I acknowledged, walking into his temporary office in Austin. We hadn't been here a week yet, and everything was already positioned neatly in place. After the destruction of Brockton Bay, Calvert had landed on his feet by forming a traveling task force to handle major threats across the country. I accepted the job of going with him, since there really wasn't another place for me.
And, when there wasn't a major threat, we spent our time time stationed in a few weeks at a time training the local PRT and law enforcement in the use of the M7s. They weren't quite the same quality as the SM7s that were used on Ellisburg, but they were easily a match for most parahumans. Anything that could beat one of them instantly measured a six on the power rankings.
"Good morning, Miss Militia," he responded back. "May I ask you a few questions? Strictly off the record."
"Certainly, Sir," I responded, taking a seat. This doesn't bode well at all.
"What's your opinion of me?" He asked calmly. "And please, be honest. Consider it an order, if you must."
I paused, choosing my words. Calvert struck me as possibly the single most wooden man on the planet. Which was saying a great deal, given the years I'd spent working for Armsmaster. Unlike Colin, however, the Director knew how to work with people and the system. Where Armsmaster was constantly saying the wrong thing, or saying the right thing the wrong way, Calvert was a skilled conversationalist. He had few friends, but fewer enemies and a great many allies. More than that, he actually valued my input, and conversations like this were a relative norm. Although not this subject matter.
Eventually, I picked a way to put that into words. "You're certainly very competent at your job, Sir," I responded.
He chuckled. It wasn't necessarily forced, or faked, but it was very reserved. "Yes, I suppose I am at that," he agreed. "But that's not quite what I meant. I suppose I should just say it, instead of being obtuse. They were discussing the need for replacement Protectorate division leaders. This conversation isn't a new one, of course, but with the loss of Huntress and Cardiac in San Francisco, it's become a pressing concern."
"I'm not sure I follow, Sir," I hesitated.
Surely, he can't mean?
"Your name's been brought up as a strong candidate," he informed.
"I was under the impression my career was functionally over after the... incidents... in Brockton Bay," I responded. After everything I let Piggot get away with, and with the political pressure the PRT and Protectorate is under thanks to their current reliance on Pantheon.
"I admit, I'm not privy to all the details, but the Chief Director says that won't be an issue," the Director informed. "She said Minerva's words were to the effect of 'she's learned her lesson, and if she runs into another Director, she'll know to stand up to them'. From what I understand, her actual language was strongly laced with profanities, but that's the spirit of the message, at least."
Yeah, I could imagine. "That is surprising news," I managed to say, if only to prompt him to continue.
"Not necessarily," Director Calvert responded. "Pantheon, and now Avalon, has a history of strong and aggressive political maneuver. There has been some speculation that they might hope that they can gain some advantage by seeing you back to an oversight position. I couldn't discount that belief, that is something Pantheon would do. Although I assured them that your professionalism and loyalty are beyond exemplary. At the same time, I'm sure Minerva's aware of that as well."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Sir," I responded. I honestly meant it, too. Director Calvert was always appreciative of a job well done, but I'd never received such open praise from him before.
"We've discussed it at length, and even consulted some Thinkers on the subject," Calvert informed. "Including Alexandria and Echo Chamber." I blinked at that one. Echo Chamber's power was rarely tapped into. She wasn't a Thinker so much as she granted others around her temporary Thinker abilities, at the cost of debilitating migraines after the fact.
This is a big deal if they're using her.
"The overall consensus is that Pantheon anticipates that you're likely to oppose any decisions you believe objectionable from any future Directors you may work with," Director Calvert continued. "Part of their ongoing pressure for additional oversight to prevent my predecessor's actions from repeating themselves. Are they correct?"
I paused for a minute, thinking about it. The simple fact was that admitting this would likely make it impossible to find a Director that wanted to work with me, viewing me as a meddlesome outsider that could make their jobs significantly harder. They weren't necessarily wrong, depending on how they chose to do their jobs. "Yes, Sir," I admitted eventually. "I understand the difficulties of the job, but if forced to choose between orders and my conscience again, I'll choose my conscience."
"Very well," Calvert responded, sounding far less than pleased with my answer. "The Chief Director wishes me to inform you that the position is yours, if you wish to have it. You'll need to provide an answer by the end of the week."
"Sir?" I couldn't even come up with the words to say.
"This was something of an informal interview," he offered the closest thing he ever gave to a smile when not in front of the public. "You passed with flying colors, at least by the Chief Director's standards. I can't imagine Director Chase will be as pleased, but thanks to the rebuild of the Protectorate, you won't answer directly to him."
"I have until the end of the week to decide?" I repeated.
"Yes," he confirmed. "Although they'd greatly prefer your answer by the end of the working day. Eidolon's come out of retirement to serve as an emergency leader. If you don't accept, they'll transfer Rime to the position. She's more than adequate for the task, but not to the same level you would be. This is a fairly significant shuffle, and they'd prefer not to leave Eidolon there any longer than absolutely necessary."
"What are you opinions on the subject?" I asked, more out of politeness and respect than an actual desire to know. Calvert was a good boss, but hardly what one would call a friend. Still, I had to start thinking politics if I wanted this job. Right now, the man in front of me was second only to the Chief Director in terms of influence in the PRT. Sometimes his orders were a little strange, but they always met with success, and that was earning him a lot of attention. Upsetting him would not be bode well for my suddenly revived career.
He smiled, this time seemingly genuine, and leaned back. "If we're being honest with one another, I'd prefer you didn't accept the position. You've been an excellent addition to my team, and losing you would make my job that much more difficult in the future."
I nodded.
Well, that makes saying 'yes' harder.
"However, I am fully aware that your potential is being grossly underutilized," he continued.
Or maybe not. "You're worth far more than merely a drill instructor, however talented you may be at that job. So from the perspective of the Protectorate as a whole, taking the job is the right play. Ultimately, it's your decision. But if you plan to stay because you're worried about how I'll handle it, then you're under direct orders to leave. I only want you here if you want to be here more. If you don't, then take the transfer."
And implicit promotion, I added silently. Sure, the pay wouldn't be that much better, and there'd be a lot more work. But I'd be in a position to actually lead a team again, instead of 'merely' being second in command of the PRT Advanced Armor Division. Or, Calvert's Elite as they were called by the PRT in general. At the same time, being second in command here was still a better position in terms of prestige than being a Director in most parts of the country would be. It wasn't as easy a decision as I might have originally thought.
"Thank you for the insight, Sir," I responded as I considered all the implications. "This is a serious decision, I need some time to think on it."
"I understand," Calvert nodded. "You're free to take some time. Take the rest of the day off if you feel that will help you make your decision more quickly. And my apologies for ending the conversation here. I have other business to attend to. You're dismissed."
"Thank you, Sir," I responded, standing and turning to leave. He was already picking up the phone before I got out the door.
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A/N- Just in case you were wondering what Miss Militia was up to. Or Coil, for that matter.
... Surely there was at least two people out there who wanted this chapter.
